This has also been called Potters Manor/Mansion and Crowborough Manor/Mansion elsewhere. It's actually Steep Park.
I was staying over at a friends in the county, and opted to check this place out on the way back. I had found out information on it's location for a friend earlier, and as I was in the area it seemed rude not to drop in for a nosey around.
When I got there I found large hoardings with 'Danger Keep Out' notices all over it. This wasn't the site of the manor house, but ever curious, I popped through the undergrowth for a look. It was a collection of outbuidings seemingly for a Pig Farm, along with a modest farm house. Most of the buildings were stripped, and of no interest.

These being the Pig Stys

In the main farmhouse, a Piano was left behind

As well as a little old stove

With that I realised where I was and headed, this was through some woods with brambles resplendently present. After ducking, scraping and scratching my way through the copse, I emerged in a lustrous meadow, with the manor house sat above it against the tree line. It looked picture box, squeezed in as it was between smaller trees.

However as I crossed the meadow, in this secret cut off little space in paradise, the manor wasn't looking too great close up.

Reminded me of the house at the end of The Money Pit, with Tom Hanks.
A walk through the front door, and I was greeted with a wood lined hallway with welcoming fire place. Sadly however a large section of floor was missing.

Turning left I came into a room with sofa's encrusted with debris and a TV still in situ, curtains still hanging in the window.

Back into the main hallway, and walking through to the right of the stairs revealed the largest room in the house. Bereft of anything pretty much except a chair and remains of a lampshade.

The next room was the complete opposite of the previous room, in that it was filled to the brim with all sorts of oddments. The remains of a drinks cabinet and numerous soft single seat chairs, gives the impression this was some sort of room for talking, drinking and smoking, setting the world to rights. The once impressive ceiling slowly falling into disrepair and beyond.

Next were the kitchens, still littered with crockery, food and cleaning products.

A door lead outside to the garages, again full of bric-a-brac and the usual finds.

At the back of the house was a tiny conservatory, mostly holding a kiln for the owners pottery interests. Nature had forced it's way in and was slowly taking reclaiming the space.

It was then time to climb the main stairs, a wooden odyssey of inhibited grandeur.

A bench seat sat halfway up the stairs, for the resident or guest to sit and take in the light streaming in through the dome skylight on a

At the top of the stairs next to a fireplace were laid out a line of paintings from the owners. A brunette woman with long hair featuring on several portraits. Note the 'Stoneware Pottery' sign on the fireplace, as if they sold it or exhibited at the house.

Walking to the back of the house on the first floor, a room with an open window and wasps nest nearby, due to the number of them hovering around the window. The floor was strewn with boxes and papers of all sorts. Bank cheques, newspapers, magazines, personal letters and documents, bedding. A wardrobe lay open to reveal more.

An un-opened packet of brochures for James F Wolford lay still wrapped up, along with paraphernalia related to his Orchid Paintings.

There were lots of letters to solicitors and financial institutions, most written in French. There were mentions of a house in Switzerland, probably where the owners left for.

There were a few other rooms around here of little interest, and a servants staircase tucked away. Another room here was full of interest, including a Daily Telegraph from Jan 1995 with the Tories falling apart as the leader. Also some more paintings lying against the wall.

The next room again was full of past wonder, a bed littered with effects from the occupants. Postcards, sketches, letters and so forth.

A set of tennis balls, although I didn't see a tennis court, not that one of their neighbours wouldn't have one.

An old gravy tin held the source of the paint for the many paintings found around the house.

There was a great sense of intrigue about the previous occupants, what did they look like and why did they leave?

Crossing back to the stairs was a wall with many cupboards in, beside it sat stairs to the upper floor, and facing it was a glass window through which could be seen the servant stairs. I was quite taken with it, the shelves filled with art books as one might imagine.

We were now back to the main stairs, the cushioned bench seat more visible in this shot.

The rest of the house on this floor were mainly bedrooms, going left at the top of the main stairs. The first one directly opposite the top of the stairs was the largest, and had wardrobes spilling clothes onto the floor.

Up the hallway yet another bedroom with clothes and books emptied onto the floor by thieves searching for valuable finds, or mindless teenage vandals.

Another room here, possibly used for storage had a dodgy floor and little of interest. The last bedroom had been exploited by some arty photographer, setting up a chair hanging on rope, shoes by a bed. Liar written on the wall that could be seen in a mirror below the hanging chair.

Up the stairs and the roof area had horse themed wallpaper, and open areas where the roof timbers were exposed. A nice fireplace to warm the cockles on a cold day.

A room at the far side lead out onto a roof terrace, showing the poor state of the roof. The many fireplace chimneys poking out.

The remnants of what must have been a wonderful lawns and garden around the pond, were now unkempt and weed infested.

And with that it was time to head back to London and lay some food in my stomach.
If you're interested, the property is for sale, a snip at £2,000,000.
Cheers to Jeremy G for location details.